loving me is blood sport
caught my scent and tears ran from you
bewitched with charm
A bevy of sin
daggers drawn
disemboweled with wit
all that glittered
lay in blood
I’d grown fond of you
but my belt is made from the hide
of my last love
and my feet are bare and cold
Visiting this more than a
Visiting this more than a year after my first read, I find it just as powerful as the first time.
Starward
This is one of the most
This is one of the most beautiful, although anguished, poems I have read in a long time.
Starward
Jesus, so long since I penned
Jesus, so long since I penned it, thanks for the love, I cant remember when I wrote it but poetry is definitely a snapshot of a feeling.
Let your teeth show
Ohhhh yes! What a lovely,
Ohhhh yes! What a lovely, bittersweet punch in the gut :)
Amazing write.
"It is a terrible thing to be so open. It is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world" -- Sylvia Plath.
"the hides of my last love"
Trophy taking is an acquired art. Laughed and chuckled, then smirked at this one (implication feet will be covered with your hide for warmth) Ouch! - Love those metaphors! slc
sticky, like slumber in some
sticky, like slumber in some sort of lost dream about the back of a dresser and what secrets might be hidden behind the frame.
I love your description here.
I love your description here.
Starward